Barred Memories
by Nemorian
Summary: I don't know why it came to this... but as I recall what led me to being stuck in here, I know one thing for certain. Once I'm out, a choice few are going to die. Slowly, painfully, and regretting they ever thought it would be a good idea to turn on me.


I laid on my back, eyes closed and tapping my foot against the stone wall in time with the nameless tune I was whistling. Not exactly the best way I could be using my time, but it was the most enjoyable option I had for the moment. Maybe I'd come up with something that would be heard in taverns across the land, give people something to remember me by in addition to the title "that psychopathic fetcher" I seem to have been given around this place.

Footsteps from the other side of the door came to a stop and a rough voice spoke up. "What the hell are you doing in there?"

I stopped whistling and laughed. "Come now, you must be able to hear the talent of a great composer in the making!"

The man snorted. "You can be as great as you damn well please, nobody'll ever hear it."

"Are you quite sure?" I asked, grinning. "What, exactly, is stopping me from spreading my musical talent across Vvardenfell?"

"Stone walls, steel bars and a few dozen soldiers come to mind."

"Ah, yes... that." I opened one eye, looking at the Imperial guard peering through the bars of my cell door. "Are you certain they can hold me though?"

He frowned at me. "I'd bet my life on it."

"You would? Don't be silly. You already are betting your life that prison can hold me, along with every other killer in this place." I sat up, grinning at him. "Think about it. You're the closest guard, if something were to happen I doubt anyone in here would think twice about killing you if it meant freedom. Sure, the other knights may stop them before that, but you'd still be dead."

The guard's face went a little pale at the thought. He must've been fairly new, none of the others I'd tried that with gave me any sort of reaction. Weak link in the chain, found. He scurried away, saying he had no time to waste listening to me and I smiled after him. Getting out of here would be no problem... but the reason I was in here in the first place came back into my mind.

I leaned against the wall of my cell, closing my eyes again and trying to figure out how the hell I never saw it coming. From heading a smuggling operation to being left to rot in a prison, I'd lost almost everything in a day apart from my life and my musical talents. How could it have come to this?

---

I rapped my fingers on my desk, going over the report from the base near Sadrith Mora. "Ah, paperwork... my most hated nemesis. So we meet again." I muttered, skimming through the contents and doing my best not to lose interest.

From his place in the chair across from mine, Tobias laughed. "Paperwork's your worst enemy? Really?"

I glanced at the Redguard and shrugged. "It's the only problem I deal with constantly that can't be solved by stabbing it a few times. Though that's not to say I haven't tried." I looked at the small holes along the edge of the paper, thinking about adding another when a Dunmer with a very serious expression walked into the little nook of a cave I called an office.

"The Imperial Knights are on the move again. I've reason to believe they know about the base on the island near Seyda Neen." Sethes reported. "They'll be prepared for a strike in three days according to my agents."

I looked from him to the paper and sighed, seriously reconsidering my open-door policy. I always got bad news when the door was open. "Sethes, how many times to I have to tell you to try and lighten up? Taking everything so seriously isn't good for your health. Try opening with a joke. Like... two vampires were on a date, sharing the neck of a young Breton woman, when-"

"Neros, we don't have time for humor!" Sethes said, cutting me off. "If the knights take out that base it will seriously hinder our operation!"

I sighed again, wondering how much of a hinderance Sethes getting a throwing knife in the ass would be, but decided against it. At least until things quieted down. "You mean the one that handles local stuff, or the one that deals in imports and exports with our allies in the Black Marsh?"

"The Marsh, now do you understand why we need to do something?"

"I know why it's a problem, but you seem to be the most concerned. Can't you take care of a few knights yourself?" I asked. If the base did go down, it would mean fewer goods moving. Of course, it also meant fewer shipping statements I'd have to go through and organize. Less paperwork. Bliss.

"They're serious about stopping the operation, Neros! They're taking a whole ship of knights to wipe the place out and most likely planning to colapse the tunnels to keep anyone from using it again." Sethes insisted.

I picked up a throwing knife and began twirling it between my fingers to focus my thoughts. The knights had to be stopped if Sethes was right, but if they were bringing a whole ship we'd have to plan carefully. The Marsh HQ only had a dozen smugglers on hand at any given time, and even four knights would be more than enough to take them out if they were unaware of an impending raid. This would call for reinforcements.

I stopped spinning the knife, holding it by the blade's tip. "All right, Sethes. Inform Raven, Miles and Fjorn. Tell them to each bring a two of their best men, we'll have to work together for this. We meet at the base tomorrow."

"Of course." Sethes said, turning to leave.

I was annoyed with Sethes for being all serious, controlling and, well, himself. My reflexes took over and my arm moved before my conscious mind could catch what it was doing and tell it to stop. The throwing knife left my fingers and flew at Sethes.

---

I burst out laughing as I recalled the yelling, bleeding and compliments on my good aim from Tobias that insued after the knife planted itself in Sethes' right cheek. He had it coming, in many ways I wasn't even aware of. I just know I found it funny as hell at the time, and I still did for a number of reasons. Though going by all the odd looks the other prisoners were giving me, I was the only one that got the joke. Can't a guy laugh like a maniac for no appaerent reason without being judged?

"Good to see your new lifestyle hasn't dimmed your sense of humor, Neros." Someone said, stepping into view and giving me a hard look.

"Captain!" I said brightly, standing up and giving him an exaggerated salute. "I'm honored you have come to visit me again, sir!"

"That's enough of that." He grumbled, expression unchanging.

"As you command." I gave him a small bow and walked up to the bars, crossing my arms and leaning against them. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?"

"Step back, you're getting company in here since everywhere else is full."

"Oh?" I stepped back as he asked, just to humor him. Making the Captain angry could result in him finding more ways to hinder my escape plan. "You're putting someone in with me? Someone else to try getting information out of me, I expect?"

"Actually, I thought I'd toss you someone I didn't care lived or died in here. This fetcher fits the description well enough." The Captain explained.

"You not caring? My my, he must have done something horrible for such a punishment." I leaned against the back wall, both suspicious and curious about just what the Captain was planning.

Two more guards and a Dunmer wearing prisoner bracers walked into view. The Captain opened the door and shoved him inside, never taking his eyes off me. I just smiled at him and turned my attention to the newcomer. He was well-built, similar to Tobias in that respect, so he must have been a warrior. That narrowed things down, warriors were usually put in jail because they murdered someone... or were smugglers, but something that petty wouldn't warrant the good Captain's cold shoulder.

The Captain and his guards departed and I moved to the corner of the cell, taking a seat on the cloth that passed for a bed in this place. I looked at my fellow prisoner as he sat down on the other bedcloth, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Who'd you waste to piss off the Captain so much? Some of his troops? He does get snippy about that."

"No... I..." He trailed off, clenching his jaw. "One of them. A friend of mine."

"Remind me not to get friendly with you then." I chuckled. "Must've been a friend of the fine Captain's then, too?"

The other prisoner shook his head. "That's not the only reason they put me in here. They think I did a lot more than just one murder, but they're wrong. I was set up."

"Set up?" I wondered. Those words hit me hard, since they were so damned familiar to my own situation. "How? And by who?"

"I don't know, but there's a lot of evidence pointing at me." He slammed his fist against the wall. "I just... don't want to talk about it right now."

I shrugged, laying back. "Fair enough. Mind if I tell you about how I got stuck in here? I'm feeling quite talkative today."

"Go ahead... maybe it'll get my mind off my own problems for a few minutes."

"Well, it all started when I went to aid one of my smuggling outposts from some Imperial Knights..."

---

I stared at the plethora of under-equipped, vacant-expressioned morons I loathed to call the people that worked for me. How the hell could people that looked like this bunch manage trade with the Black Marsh was beyond me. Maybe letting the knights have at them was for the best, it sure didn't look like we wouldn't lose anyone that wasn't expendable. Plus the decrease of paperwork still shone like a beacon of hope in the back of my mind. Unfortunately, I was now here. As were my best men... and Raven, for what she's worth.

"All right everyone, set up the barracades and traps like you've been instructed." I said, turning and going into the room I liberated for myself away from the oddities that somehow ran this outpost. I walked over to the desk, taking a seat on the chair and glancing down at an inventory notice. Tobias walked in somewhere between stab numbers five and six.

"If you're busy, I can come back." He said as I planted the seventh stab through the second "o" where it read Moon Sugar, 50.

"Busy is an understatement when trying to kill that which is immortal." I said, leaving the knife in the paper. "Sheogorath is behind this, I'd stake my sanity on it."

"You did that once before and lost." Tobias stated.

I laughed. "So I did, friend. What did you need?"

"Fjorn has just arrived, and is trying to help."

"Oh." I muttered. Fjorn was not the brightest Nord around, and usually did as much damage trying to help as he did swinging his axe. There was only one way I knew of to keep him out of the way. I got up and wandered to the cabinet that acted as a home for anything tasty, alcoholic and strong enough to kick your teeth in with a sip.

"Well, well... we have mead." I said, taking out three bottles and handing them to Tobias. "Show him these, and he'll forget all about helping."

"We can only hope." Tobias grinned, turning to leave. "What's on your schedule, Neros?"

"Preparing for the fun tomorrow. I want to be well-rested enough to enjoy myself during the slaughter."

"Of course." He said as he walked out, closing the door behind him.

I walked over to the bed along the side of the room and dropped onto it like a sack of ash yams. It didn't take much to drift off to sleep. It didn't take much to wake me up, either. After a few fuzzy dreams I awoke shortly after my reflexes kicked in and found my hands wrapped tightly around someone's throat. I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision, taking a close look at the Breton that was slowly turning a shade of blue.

"Miles? You shouldn't sneak up on a fellow like that, it could get you hurt." I pointed out.

He gurgled in reply, since I still had a firm grip on his neck.

"Right, sorry." I said, letting him go and sitting up. "What did you need?"

After a brief fit of coughing and massaging his throat, Miles managed to get a few words out. "A plot... Fjorn..." He muttered.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Say again?"

"Fjorn was drunk... I heard him talking about a plot."

"A plot? Him?" I couldn't hold back a laugh at the thought. "He doesn't have enough brains for thought, let alone a writing a book."

"Not that kind of plot!" Miles strained to yell, though it came out as more of a wheeze. "He said something about planning to get rid of you."

"A backstabber in my midst? How irritating." I grumbled, Fjorn did seem the sort to try something like that. It was stupid enough to fit him. "If anyone's going to be knifing people when their back is turned, it's me."

"Neros..." Miles mumbled, looking genuinely concerned. The kid was a healer, not an outlaw, and his expression showed it more now than ever. "...be careful, these knights on the way and Fjorn planning something. Everything could go wrong with this."

I looked at him, thinking for a few moments. "I'll be fine. If you need to worry about anyone, it's yourself. You're helpful, trusting and too loyal for your own good. You're not cut out for the smuggler thing."

He looked off to the right, for some reason finding the wall very interesing at that moment. "I know. I can't give it up though. At least not yet."

"Not yet?" I wondered. That wasn't the response I was expecting. "Why's that?"

"It's... personal." He said, before turning and heading to the door. "Keep what I said in mind, boss." He was gone before I could say a thing.

---

"So this Fjorn guy set you up somehow?" The prisoner interrupted.

"Oh please. He couldn't set up a playing-card stronghold." I said with a dismissive wave. "Now Caius from Balmora, that old sugarlip knows how to stack cards."

"So... this Caius set you up?"

I sat myself up at that point, just to give my fellow prisoner a frustrated look. "Are you on the sugar too? Caius has barely as many brain cells as Fjorn, and he's not even in this story. I was just saying he's a great builder of card strongholds, since he practices so much. About all he does, actually. Skooma and cards. How the guy makes a living is a mystery to me."

The prisoner sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Now you've gone and gotten me confused."

"See what happens when you interrupt?"

"Fjorn was planning to get you arrested." He said, trying to clear things up.

"No, Fjorn wanted me dead." I said.

The prisoner just shook his head. "Yet here you are in prison, alive and well."

"As I said, countless times, Fjorn is an idiot. His plans never go right, but it wasn't his plan or his mistake that led to my being put in here." I tried to explain.

"Then what was?"

"If you could stop asking questions, I could tell you." I said, laying back down. He didn't say anything more, so I started to recount how the next day started.

---

"Neros! What the hell is going on?!" An angry voice shouted, waking me up.

I left my head buried in my pillow and groped around for my throwing knives, or dagger, or something metallic and pointy to fling at the annoying fetcher. "Come back later, Sethes. I almost strangled Miles earlier, which further proves how keen I am on killing the first person I see in the morning. You really don't want to be in my line of sight when I pick my head up."

I waited a few seconds before looking. When I did, Sethes was standing in front of my door, arms crossed and his wrinkled forehead and nose above his standard frown of seriousness. With a face like that, is it any wonder why I lob knives at him?

"Unless you want the left cheek to match the right, you'd better have a damn good reason for waking me up." I said, my fingers coming to rest on a throwing knife laying on the bedside table.

"The place is empty, good enough?" He asked, the stern expression never waivering.

I pushed myself up, trying not to fall over when I made it to my feet. "What are you talking about?"

"This base. I woke up, and I can't find anyone. Tobias, Raven, Miles, the workers... none of them." He explained.

My thoughts drifted to what Miles said about Fjorn. Maybe the drunk could manage to finish me off, at least indirectly. He always seemed the more straightforward type, though there wasn't time to ponder it. "When will the knights arrive?"

"According to the last reports, they could be here anytime. We should leave before they get here. I highly doubt the two of us could take on a whole battalion."

"No, I suppose not." I said, grabbing my assortment of knives and sliding them onto my belt. "Sure would be fun to try though."

"It would be suicide." Sethes stated.

"Exactly. Fun." I said, walking past him. "Suicide missions get the adrenaline pumping. It's a great rush."

Sethes rolled his eyes and followed after me. The pair of us walked through the empty rooms, keeping an eye out for anyone during our walk to the exit. It wasn't until we reached the last room before the tunnel leading out did we find someone, and they were waiting for us.

"About time you got here." The Nord said, brandishing his axe. "It's time for chopping!"

"I think you mean stabbing, Fjorn." I said, taking my dagger in one hand and a throwing knife in the other. "I'm going to plant a blade firmly in your back, fetcher."

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Sethes laughed.

_Wait. Sethes can laugh?_ Was all I had time to think before something sharp dug into my back... and out my front. I looked down at the tip of the sword poking out of the right side of my chest.

"Now that, Fjorn, is teamwork. Do try to keep it in mind in the future." Sethes said, tearing the sword out. I fell to the ground, landing hard on my side. "Let's go tell Tobias and the others it's done."

"You ruin the fight and don't even finish him off?!" Fjorn shouted, waving his axe at Sethes.

Sethes walked up to Fjorn and yanked the axe out of the Nord's grip. "He would have killed us, or at least you, in a straight fight. And just killing him would be too quick. I want to let him lay there bleeding and in pain until the knights come and either finish him off or drag him off to prison. He'll rot one way or another."

Fjorn gave him an irritated grunt, but turned and stalked off to the exit. Sethes just shook his head at the retreating Nord before looking back at me as I lay on the ground, trying to get over the pain shooting through my chest and arm. Not to mention the humiliation of the whole thing. He smirked at me and followed after Fjorn.

---

"I took that oppertunity to use what little strength I could muster to fling the throwing knife that was still in my left hand at him. It fell too short to his back, but I made his left cheek match the right, which gave me a laugh despite my condition." I said, sitting back up and looking at the prisoner. "Shortly after that, the knights showed up and I got dragged here."

"I see." He mumbled. "You know who's responsible, then."

"I almost wish I didn't." I said, looking through the bars. "I could understand Fjorn being dense enough to try and kill me, and Sethes was always an ambitious little fetcher... but Tobias was my right-hand man, I can't believe he had a part in it. Miles too, I knew Tobias longer, but I trusted that odd Breton more. He just didn't seem the type. Not sure about Raven, she might or might not."

"A Breton named Miles... and a woman named Raven..." The prisoner muttered, letting out a snort of laughter.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Something funny about those two?"

"Only in a twisted way. I'll spare you the details."

Resisting the urge to question him about it, I shrugged and stood up. "Well, that's the tale of my spiral out of a nice smuggling organization and into this dank pit. At least until I find a way out."

"You want to go back to that life?" The prisoner asked. "Why?"

"Becuase..." I trailed off and came to a dead stop. Why did I want to go back? I hadn't really considered it in any detail... it was just what I was used to. I lost everything becuase of Sethes, and I wanted it back, simple as that.

But... _why_? I leaned against the bars, thinking. Keeping smugglers in check, minding the knights, backstabbing employees, and worst of all, the bloody paperwork. I didn't have to deal with any of it in here. However, the thought of Sethes and the others running my business through betrayal just irritated me.

"You raise a good point." I said, glancing at the prisoner. "I'll have to think about that while we're on our way out."

He just blinked at me as I reached out to the passing guard, grabbing him around the throat and pulling him toward the bars. I fished into his pockets, finding the cell key before thanking him and using both hands to snap his neck.

I balanced the key on one finger and shook my head. "I told him the cell guard dies first, he just didn't listen." The prisoner was on his feet at this point, looking from me to the guard. I grinned at him and unlocked the door.

After walking to the middle of the room, where I thought everyone in the other cells could see me, I held up the key and made my announcement. "I, Neros Drathal, hereby declare a jailbreak to be in effect! Participation is manditory, so don't be slacking off or asses will be knifed!"

---

Chaos followed as I opened the cell doors. Everyone rushed out as I trailed behind, thinking about what my cellmate had brought up. Everything I had built up was gone, because of Sethes and the others. I couldn't just let that pass even if I wanted to, I'm not forgiving enough for that.

I walked down the hall of Fort Moonmoth, grabbing a dagger from one of the guards that had been killed by the other escaping prisoners. I heard a lot of shouting and the clash of steel coming from up ahead, but I kept a steady pace. No point in being winded from running when I got to the conflict.

I twirled the dagger between my fingers, questioning what I was forgiving enough for. What the hell kind of person was I? A smuggler... not really. Illegal goods meant nothing to me, personally. They were just a good source of money. So is that what mattered to me most? Gold? No, being rich didn't sound that appealing either.

I kicked the head of one of the downed guards I was passing. Violence was nice, in its way. Was that me? A violent lunatic that took pleasure in killing just for the hell of it? I laughed, that did sound like me, all right. I was just a killer, motivated by bloodlust. Simple.

Then again, that didn't fit either. If I was such a psychopath, I'd never have taken the time to make myself leader of a smuggling empire. I would have knifed anyone I came across. I would have broken Miles' neck on instinct instead of just half-strangling him. I probably would have beat my cellmate to a pulp the second he was tossed in, not made conversation. Hell, right now I'd be leading the charge and slitting throats left and right, or have taken the time to kill every prisoner instead of letting them out. Bloody confusing, that's what I was.

I walked through the main room of the fort, which was littered with bodies of both guards and prisoners. Tables were toppled, gold and weapons were scattered around, blood was everywhere... it didn't bother me at all. No disgust, no joy... no reaction at all, it was just there. I pushed open the door leading outside and was met with a clash between the remaining knights and prisoners. I walked down the stairs and gripped the dagger, walking into the fray at the same pace one would stroll down the shoreline.

"Neros! You started this, didn't you?!" The Captain yelled, cuting down one of the prisoners and rushing toward me.

"Greetings, Captain!" I said with a wave. "Things are certainly busy here today, aren't they?"

He stopped in front of me, sword at the ready. "It's all over, the other prisoners will be either dead or detained within minutes. Which do you want to be?"

I smirked at him. "Walking out the gate, naturally."

The Captain got into a defensive stance. "That's not going to happen."

I was about to tell him how it was, describing in quite vivid details the many ways I was going to offer him a slow, painful death... but something else caught my attention. Behind him, near the gate, a knight was facing off with a prisoner. My old cellmate. They were on even ground, but if my cellmate tried to run, he'd never make it without downing the knight first. The knight was playing it defensively, though, just like the Captain before me. He was stalling for time, until some of the other prisoners were dealt with and they could outnumber those remaining.

A good tactic, especially when against unorganized rabble. My cellmate seemed to realize this as well, and rushed the knight keeping him in place. His blows were parried, but the knight wasn't expecting a swing from something other than the prisoner's stolen sword and stumbled backward as my cellmate drove his foot into the knight's gut. The prisoner made a dash for the gate, but the knight recovered and moved faster than the prisoner must have been expecting.

I wasn't sure what happened for a moment. The knight raised his sword as he got close enough to cut down my cellmate, then he slammed headlong into the ground. My cellmate rounded the corner about the same time I noticed the glimmer of silver coming from the waist of the knight that had been after him. A dagger was lodged in his back between his cuirass and greaves. Mine.

I blinked, looking at my hand and wondering why I had done it. Why I had helped the prisoner without a second thought. I had nothing to gain from it, quite the opposite. I was now unarmed and the Captain looked none too pleased with me. I didn't understand myself at all.

I sighed, shaking my head. "All right, Captain. I'm done." I said, turning around and heading back to the door into the fort. "If you need me, I'll be in my cell."

---

Even though I told the Captain I was going back on my own, he seemed insistant on escorting me there himself. It was quite an honor to be getting that much attention from the person in charge. I bumped into the wall as the Captain practically hurled me into the cell and slammed the door behind me. He had almost stormed off before I could stop him and tell him he had forgotten to take the cell key I had stolen with him. He gave me a very funny look as he came back for it, and I sat down in the corner after he departed.

I leaned my head against the wall. Sure, I'd lost everything thanks to that fetcher Sethes and my other so-called allies, but maybe I needed to. I don't know why I was doing it in the first place. I could use my time in the heart of Fort Moonmoth to figure out just what I wanted to do once I was able to break out of the place... and after killing Sethes and the others too, of course. I was the spiteful sort, that much was certain.

Until then, I could mull over my motivations for all the choices I had made up to that point in more detail, I had plenty of time, after all. I started whistling again as I thought, then stopped and smiled. I still had my musical talents, Sethes couldn't take those. I may have lost everything else, but maybe it had given me a chance to find myself.

I laid down on my thin cloth bedding and closed my eyes. One final, joyful thought entering my mind before I drifted off to sleep. Prisoners didn't deal with paperwork.


End file.
